


so hello from the other side

by kendrasaunders



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: And a cast of thousands, F/F, The Let's Get Back Together Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 20:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5429690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kendrasaunders/pseuds/kendrasaunders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the five times sara called nyssa to say "hey, what's up? i'm alive!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	so hello from the other side

“Um, hi. It turns out the phone company will reinstate your contract if you come back to life.”

Sara notes a piece of especially interesting gum on the sidewalk. It’s blue-raspberry colored, which is unusual. Usually, blue-raspberry gum is chewed into a flavorless white before it’s spit out.

Is she still recording? Crap. Yes.

“That was a joke. I mean, it’s not a joke, it actually happened. And I guess your phone still works, because I can leave you a voicemail, and your answering message is still the same, so. You know. Hey. I said hi already. This is stupid.”

She pokes the gum with the toe of her sneaker. And now there’s gum on her shoe. Outstanding.

“I just thought I’d call you and tell you I’m around. Well. I moved. But you can travel pretty much anywhere, despite being on like, 17 no-fly lists, so if you want to meet up, text me or something. I don’t know. I’m mostly free. Bye.”

  

 

“So, did you guys ever officially break up?”

Sara has decided that Kendra is pretty cool. For a bird person. Which means a lot, as Sara is also a bird person, and bird people should stick together.

These are the kinds of thoughts she has at 3am. Somehow, they carry over into her daily life. This may be a problem.

“Well,” Sara says. “I kind of died.”

Kendra winces. “Right.”

“Like, I did that thing she hates where I left without telling her because I was almost positive I was gonna be back within a week or so, and she could get really clingy which, whatever, I get it, but-”

“Then you got murdered.”

Sara nods. “Super murdered.”

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Carter adds.

Carter is mid-way on the likeability scale. He’s like, decent looking and pretty nice, but he’s not bird enough. Not bird enough at all.

Sara smacks her lips. “Duh.”

“So does she know you’re alive?” Kendra asks.

“Well I called her yesterday,” Sara says. “And left a voicemail.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not sure how else to reach her!” Sara protests. “The League still communicates through literal falcons. And unfortunately, I forfeited mine when I left, so-”

“I can get you a falcon, if you need,” Carter says.

Sara gives him a healthy, disturbed stare. “I don’t even think there’s a response for that.”

“I mean, just let me know,” he says. “If your girlfriend doesn’t call you back.”

“Thanks, Carter.”

“Where are you going to get a falcon?” Kendra asks. “Do I also have access to falcons? Can we talk to birds?”

The two of them dissolve into another one of their patent-pending past lives discussions. Sara takes this as her cue to tune all the way out.

It’s nice to know people that are resourceful, she supposes.

 

 

“Me again. I was thinking about what I said last night, and I figured I should probably be more specific. I’m living in St. Roch and uh, so no judgement but I’m doing the hero thing. And I know, you hate the hero thing, but like- I’m not really sure we’re even talking anymore? So. You know, I eagerly await your judgement on this one.”

She fixes one of the photos on her vanity. Should she mention her vanity? The clubhouse? The size of her bed?

“Uh- I realize that makes you sound like a judgmental bitch. Which you aren’t. I mean. You are, but not in a bad way. Fuck. I mean-”

Maybe she should bring up Laurel. That’s something she’s been curious about.

“I changed my name! Not- I’m still Sara. But I have a new uniform. I know you picked the old one but this one’s white. Because I’m the White Canary. Since... Laurel’s Black Canary? You could be Red Canary, if you wanted a name. Cardinal? Is that stupid? I feel like that’s stupid.”

It is stupid. It’s very stupid, thanks for asking.

“Just let me know if you’re getting my messages, okay? I feel like I’m talking into the void, here. Text me, or something. Bye.”

 

 

She likes the Rogues.

She shouldn’t like the Rogues, and that’s technically not what they’re called. But referring to them by two separate names is time and effort, and there’s booze to be had and bad decisions to be made, so.

You know. Priorities.

“I had a girl back home,” Mick says, slurring his words because he is either drunk or concussed. “Then I went to prison for the first time, and she married someone else. Then I got out of prison and she was all ‘Oh Mick, I’ll murder him for you!’ And I said, ‘Don’t do that! Why would that even be a thing you want to do?’ But she did murder him. And now she’s in prison. I think. I should check on that.”

“Truly heartbreaking,” Len adds. “A story for the ages.”

Sara resolutely stares into her drink. She’s somewhere around beer number threve, and the night is feeling pretty damn good. Or it was. “Nyssa loves murder.”

“That’s a good quality for a woman to have,” Len says. “It means she knows what she wants in life.”

“Which I guess isn’t me,” Sara says. “Since she hasn’t called me back.”

“We could kidnap someone she loves,” Mick says. “Hold ‘em ransom until she does want you want.”

“She did that to my mom, once,” Sara sniffles. “She’d always wanted to meet my parents.”

“She sounds like a real catch,” Len says. “Not the kind you get over easy.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not, Leonard,” Sara says.

He narrows his eyes. “I’m never sarcastic.”

Sara nods. “Do you think I should send her a falcon?”

“Absolutely,” Mick says. “Where are we getting one?”

“I know a guy.”

 

 

“December twenty forth, nine pm, eastern standard time. From here on in- I shoot without a script.”

Sara clears her throat.

“It’s from uh- It’s a musical reference. I thought it was fitting, since, you know, these are kind of feeling like journal entries and less like phonecalls. Hey, can I ask what the deal with you and Laurel was? Is? She’s being really weird about it and it’s fine if you had sex with my sister, I was dead, but I’d appreciate it if one of you could at least tell me about it.”

Nice. Smooth. Almost as classy as the RENT opening that sure to sail right over Nyssa’s head. Christ.

“It, you know, wouldn’t be the first time we’ve slept with the same person! So. No big deal! Just call me back and let me know if you and Laurel are a thing or something. And that’s why you’re not calling. Because like, you’re usually the kind of person that would’ve been here by now, by the first ring of the first time I called you. But you’re not here. So you either don’t use this phone anymore, or you’re avoiding me. And like, if you’ve moved on, I get it. A year is a long time and I don’t expect you to keep holding a candle for me, but it hasn’t been a year to me, Nyssa. It’s been a month. And I just want you to call me and tell me it’s over, okay? I just want to hear it from you. Please call. Bye.”

 

 

“Break ups are never easy.” Professor Stein is doing that thing where he half talks, half builds a death-ray. Solar panel. Microscope. Whatever. It’s big, and probably full of circuits. “If they were, it would mean you never cared about the person to begin with.”

“That’s fair,” Sara says. “But I mean, you’ve been married forever.”

“Doesn’t mean I haven’t had rough patches,” he says. Always calm. Always knows just what to say. “That’s the tough thing about people. They don’t stay quite the same.”

“And it’s been a year,” Sara sighs. “She could be completely different.”

“It’s more than just a year,” Stein corrects. “It’s a year thinking that someone she loved, deeply, is dead. So she’s had a year of grieving. With break-ups, there’s that flicker of hope that the person will come back into your life. She didn’t get that. So now, for you to bring it back all of a sudden-”

“It’s too much.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Depends on what this-” He adjusts his glasses. “What did you say her name was? Nyssa?”

“Yeah. Nyssa.”

“Does she handle change well?”

Sara almost finds it in herself to laugh. Not quite. “No.”

“And from what you’ve said, she’s faced nothing but change for the past year. She lost you, she lost her father-”

“Her dad was a dick, though.”

Stein lets out a huff. “Children have strange relationships with their parents.”

“I just thought- Like, this is a change for the better, right? After a year of shit, it’s a sign that things are gonna get better.”

“She might not see it that way.” 

“But I want her to.”

“Ah.” He gestures for the screwdriver. She obliges. “Thank you. See, that’s the funny thing about love. You can love her. You can work for her. You can do whatever you want to make her happy. But you can’t tell her how to feel.”

Sara scuffs her foot against the work bench. “Yeah. I guess.”

“And if she’s moved on,” Stein says. “Then you need to respect that.”

“Okay.”

“Sara.”

“I will!” Sara says. “I will.”

He tinkers for another moment.

“Do you think I should send her a falcon?”

A drawn-out sigh. “Where on earth are you going to get a falcon? Actually- Don’t tell me. No. I don’t think you should send her a falcon.”

 

 

“So, I realized one of the big things is that you think I don’t have a soul anymore. And that’s not true. Laurel brought it back. She and Oliver went into my body and got it out of the pit with magic, or something.”

Funny story. It’s the stupidest thing Sara’s ever heard in her life, and she was there for it. It still doesn’t make any damn sense, though.

“I talked to Laurel, and she told me that you asked her not to bring me back. And um, that kind of hurt, but I get why you said it. What you were afraid of. Because it happened. But we fixed it! I don’t know why they didn’t call you. Laurel said you were in League jail but you and I both know that’s like, a temporary thing for you at best and so I know for sure that they could’ve.”

And it had been kind of funny, waking up without Nyssa there. Like, every time Sara came back to life, Nyssa was supposed to be there. That’s how it works.

“So like, I wish it had been you instead of Oliver. Not that I’m ungrateful but it would’ve made more sense for it to be you. And I don’t want to take it personally, Nys, I don’t, because they didn’t call you to tell you they were doing it. But I do take it personally now, since I’ve called you to tell you I’m back. And listen, if you want me dead or you want me gone then just have the courage to tell me to my damn face already. Or whatever. I’m sorry. Bye.”

 

 

“So this little gal’s name-” Carter lowers his arm, letting the falcon climb onto her newly-installed perch. “Is Ayah.”

“The Hebrew word for ‘falcon,’” Stein says, not even looking up from his paper. “You’ve gotten a bird named bird.”

“I like it,” Kendra says. She reaches a tentative hand in Ayah’s direction. “She’s one heck of a bird.”

“Can she hunt?” Mick asks. He mimics Kendra’s gesture. And earns a squawk of protest from Ayah.

“Sorry,” Carter says. “She’s going to like me and Kendra the most.”

“Well, fine,” Mick grumbles. “If she’s gonna be a snob.”

“So,” Sara says. This is probably the most surreal thing that’s happened all week. “You got a falcon to deliver my letters to Nyssa?”

“Yep,” Carter says. “We just need to train her to go to and from wherever Nyssa is.”

“Nanda Parabat,” Sara says. “In the Himalayas.”

“Well, Ayah,” Len says. “Get flapping.”

“You really should’ve mentioned that before,” Carter says. “That’s awfully far, and she’s just a baby.”

“Aw!” Kendra says. She rubs Ayah’s tuft of feathers. “Are you a baby bird? Yes you are!”

“Well, I mean, we were bound to get a group pet at some point,” Sara says. “It’s on the list of wacky roommate shenanigans.”

“Of course it is,” Stein says. “You know Jax is allergic to birds.” 

“You can’t be allergic to birds,” Mick says. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I’m not even going to explain it,” Stein says. “I simply don’t have the time.”

“I’m gonna go...” Sara swallows whatever lump is rising in her throat. “Draft that letter. For when Ayah is ready. In three to six months.”

“Good idea,” Carter says. 

It’s not a good idea. None of this is a good idea.

But they’ve got a pet bird now. So.

Moving on up.

 

 

“I promise I won’t call you again. I pinky double swear that I will take your silence as a message to leave you alone. Okay? I super promise. But there’s just something I need to say that I haven’t said in the past messages. Maybe I wasn’t ready, maybe I didn’t think I needed to say it, I don’t know. But it bears saying, I guess. I love you, Nyssa. And I’m going to keep loving you for a while. Because even if you’ve had the time to get over me, I haven’t had that same time. So maybe one day I will move on. But it’s not gonna be any time soon. I just thought you should know that. Since I’m alive, and all.

I love you. Bye.”

 

 

“You might not be dead anymore. But you certainly sleep like you are.”

Sara almost flings herself out of bed. “Holy shit. Nyssa?”

“Sara.”

She fumbles for her lamp. “What time is it? How did you even get in here?”

Nyssa’s sitting at the end of the bed. Back straight. Hair long. Expression unchanging. “It’s 3am.”

“And as for the you getting in here-”

Nyssa raises a single eyebrow.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sara grumbles. “I get it.”

“You called.”

“I called a bunch,” Sara says. “I’m assuming you’re here to what? Break up in person?”

A heavy breath. Dry as the air. “Not particularly.”

“Oh.”

“It’s been...” Nyssa breaks her gaze. “It’s been a lot.”

“You’re usually more eloquent.”

“You’re usually not undead.”

“Fair.” Sara pulls her knees to her chest. “I missed you, Nys.”

“I missed you, too.” 

“You could’ve just picked up the phone.”

“Is that what you wanted?”

“I mean-” Sara lets out a huff. “I don’t know. I wanted to see you, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Come on,” Sara says. “Don’t do the-” She waves her hands over Nyssa’s silhouette. “Don’t pretend we’re not us. Okay?”

“That’s the thing, Sara,” Nyssa says. “I don’t- You’re-”

“I’m not what? Her? I promise you I am.”

Another awkward silence.

Sara finds, when Nyssa is like this, that it’s easier to keep moving. That she fidgets. She’s bouncing her leg. Waiting for an answer. “Listen. If you think that I’m not the real deal, that I’m some desecration of your memory or whatever, then fine. Put me in a little box and write me off. But I’m here, right now. And I’m flesh and blood. And I really don’t think you came all the way out here to tell me to go fuck myself. Unless you did. In which case-” Sara spreads her arms in invitation. “Go right ahead. I’m waiting.”

Nyssa’s eyes fall to Sara’s chest. Just for a moment. Then back to her eyes. “I liked your singing.”

The relief snaps through her, sure as sunrise. Her arms fall. “I sang for like, two seconds. On one message.”

“Well,” Nyssa pouts. “I liked it.”

For the first time in ages, Sara feels like laughing. “Come here, you big stupid dumb,” Sara says, lurching forward. She tackles Nyssa in a flurry of covers. “I missed you so damn much.”

Nyssa wiggles out from under the blankets. She pushes Sara’s hair back from her forehead. “It is you. Right?”

Sara grins. “It’s me.”

“Good.”

Nyssa cups her jaw with both hands. And wow. Sara really missed the way Nyssa likes to kiss.

“C’mon,” Sara says. “Let’s go back to bed.”

“It’s afternoon in Nepal.”

“This isn’t Nepal,” Sara grumbles. “And you woke me up.”

“Would you like me to wake up the rest of your little... clubhouse?”

Sara resists the urge to whine. “Nyssaaaaa. It’s so laaaate. Sex stuff in the moooorning.”

“Fine, fine. Let me get undressed.”

“I missed hearing you say that.”

“You’ll be hearing it more.”

“Good.”

Nyssa pulls her chestpiece off. “I noticed a bird when I came in.”

“Oh,” Sara says, tucking herself under the covers. “We were going to send you a letter via falcon.”

“Naturally.”

“I think Carter may have already had a pet falcon.”

“Who’s Carter?”

Sara shrugs. “You’ll find out in the morning.”

And there goes the bra. “You know it takes years to train a falcon properly.”

“Yep.”

“And then to send one to Nanda Parbat-”

“I get it.”

“Why, just the flight alone is-”

“Nyssa,” Sara says. “It was a bad idea.”

“It was a nice thought,” Nyssa says. “I like getting letters.”

“I’ll send you one sometime,” Sara replies. “Come cuddle me.”

“You don’t even know how to handle a falcon,” Nyssa says, sidling beside Sara. “They’re very complex creatures.”

“I get that.”

Nyssa smoothes her hair. “What’s her name?”

“Ayah.”

“That’s Hebrew for Falcon.”

“We know.”

“So you gave her a terribly redudant name.”

“Can I sleep now?”

“I come all the way out here, and you want to sleep?”

“Well, you just want to lecture me about birds!”

Nyssa laughs. Just a little. Just enough to let Sara knows she cares. “But you’re my favorite bird, Ta-er al-Safar.” She kisses Sara on the cheek. “Go to sleep.”

“Already there.”

Nyssa’s nose presses to the crook of Sara’s neck. “Good.”

 

 


End file.
